Rising to the Occasion
by LdyAnne
Summary: Missing scenes from 'Rising.' Why did John Sheppard go to Pegasus? Was his decision really made because of the flip of a coin or was there something more?


Disclaimer: They're not mine. That's all right as long as I can take them out and play with them sometimes. I do try to put them back almost the way I found them.

A/N: Thanks to my awesome beta chocolatephysicist. She always makes my stories better. Any mistakes remaining are my own.

* * *

Rodney really couldn't tell how well their meeting with General O'Neill was going. Elizabeth looked hopeful, but the General had already told Daniel Jackson no with some finality to his tone. So, when Carson Beckett interrupted their meeting, Rodney was relieved. Then when Carson began gesturing wildly at them, his mouth working and no words were coming out, Rodney became a little alarmed. 

Finally the doctor calmed down enough to get out, "The chair... the major... come now." He ran out, obviously expecting the four of them to follow him.

Carson was so agitated, Rodney's first thought was that they'd had another disaster like the one they'd just averted when Carson had nearly shot down General O'Neill's helicopter because he couldn't control the chair. Rodney hadn't thought the doctor would ever sit in the chair again, the thought that he might sit in it unattended was sheer disaster. Rodney was prepared to find anything, bodies strewn everywhere, the facility destroyed, alien invaders – and was absolutely stunned by what he found instead.

Racing into the main chamber of the complex, followed by Elizabeth, Daniel Jackson and General O'Neill, they found the chair glowing like they'd never seen it glow before. Only the general had been able to get it to operate so freely and that was only when he had the knowledge of the Ancients in his head. Once that knowledge was gone, the chair was just as obstinate in working for him as anyone else. Maybe even more so than for Carson, because the general seemed to resent the chair faintly.

Now the chair was reclined, glowing brightly, the man sitting in the chair was one Rodney had only glimpsed briefly just a little while before, the helicopter pilot who had nearly been shot down by Carson's drone. Rodney suppressed the surge of jealousy that threatened to swamp him that this... person from out of nowhere could get his chair to work, and said instead, "Major, think about where we are in the solar system."

He'd given those instructions so many times before and gotten only flickering lights that suggested so much more, tantalizing hints of what was there if they could just get someone to initialize the equipment properly. This time, it seemed they'd hit the jackpot.

Because instantly appearing over their heads in full color and detail was a map. It was the most detailed three dimensional holographic map that Rodney had ever seen. He gazed up in wonder, for once even he didn't have anything else to say now that he saw the reality of what they'd only suspected for so long.

The man looked up at the map, a small frown tugging at his mouth. "Did I do that?" he asked, his tone perplexed.

The pilot didn't even know what he'd done. It was so far beyond fair that it was off any scale of fairness that Rodney had ever known.

But Rodney was used to life being unfair. He had a brain that so far outstripped other people that he was used to people not being able to keep up with him. He fairly burned with what he knew could do with the chair if only he had the ATA gene. Instead he was forced to rely on people with pea brains and a miniscule intellect so that he could do the most important work of his age. It was like working with bear skins and stone knives.

Rodney just looked at the major, his ridiculous hair sticking up at improbable angles. Rodney didn't say anything else, he just shook his head and walked away with a sigh.

He hadn't gotten far before he heard a voice call out, "Doc? Uhm... Hey, hold up."

Rodney didn't pause, "Dr. McKay," he called over his shoulder. "I'm sorry, I don't have time for tourists, you'll have to get the tour from someone else," he threw over his shoulder impatiently. He was surprised when footsteps fell into line with his. Not many people took the time to follow when he left them in the dust.

"I'd really like to know if I did that," the voice said insistently, just this side of peeved.

Rodney did pause this time, realizing that it was the pilot. "I'm sorry, was someone else sitting in that chair?" He gave an aggrieved huff. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, it was you, all you. Are you happy now? Now leave me alone, I have work to do." He started to continue on his way but the man was persistent.

"But how did I do it? I mean the other guy, Dr. Beckett? He told me that it had to do with my genes, or some weird crap like that. But I only thought about where we were in the universe, how did that... that... chair thing know what I wanted?"

Rodney decided the fastest and easiest way to get rid of the annoying man was going to be by answering his question, and he did just that, "Because it reads your mind in a way that we haven't quite figured out yet. Somehow it accesses that part of your brain that has to do with technical knowledge and can deduce what you need and produce it. Now in your case you seem to be able to use the technology on an intuitive level. If you would let me run some tests..." now that he was getting beyond his irritation with the fact that the man could use the Ancient device without even knowing what it was, Rodney's brain was beginning to consider the advantages of having someone around who could use the technology so easily. Now, rather than trying to get rid of him, Rodney realized he needed to keep the man around. He grabbed the pilot's arm and attempted to pull him along.

The major planted both feet and regarded Rodney suspiciously, "Tests? Now hold on there, doc, I didn't agree to any tests. I'm a guest at this party and I think I should just take my helicopter and go home."

Rodney frowned at the pilot. He wasn't used to having to persuade anyone to do what he wanted. Most of the people at the facility worked for him or with him. He could usually just bully them into doing what he wanted, or get Elizabeth to order them, but this man was different. Rodney had a feeling bullying wouldn't work with him, neither would Elizabeth's orders. He took a breath and tried a different tact.

"Listen, Major... uhm..." Carson hadn't told them his name, just major, now wasn't that something?

"Sheppard," the man supplied helpfully.

"Listen, we're doing important work here and your assistance could be invaluable." Now Rodney's curiosity got the better of him, "What was it like? Sitting in the chair?"

The pilot, Sheppard, frowned at Rodney and he paused, turning his sight inward, "I don't know, it's hard to describe... It was like... I was on fire, like there was so much more I could do, I just didn't know how," Rodney heard the frustration in his voice, the same frustration Rodney had felt so many times before in working with the chair.

"Really?" Rodney found himself being interested despite himself. Yes, this was his life's work now, but he had wanted a few minutes alone to sulk about the injustice of life that gave the most important gene of all time to a pilot who didn't know or care what he had. Sulking would have to wait though. Judging by the fact that he'd tracked down Rodney, the person most likely to answer his questions, maybe the major did care, if only a little. "What did it feel like?"

"It felt like... an itch that you can't quite reach, like a word on the tip of your tongue that you can't quite remember, like... déjà vu," the man wrestled for words, growing frustrated when he couldn't find the ones he wanted. "Like I should know how that stuff works." His gaze seemed to bore into Rodney as if he could wrestle the answers out that way.

Rodney shifted uncertainly. The man was a grunt, someone Rodney would never see again in his life. Yes, he should be part of their expedition, getting the pilot to see it that way might be difficult. Giving up your life and traveling to another galaxy and possibly never being able to return to Earth was a daunting prospect. The pilot wouldn't have the burning passion whichthe rest of the expedition members had for the project. He probably had a life complete with friends and a wife and 2.4 kids and a dog he wouldn't want to leave.

Briefly Rodney wondered if he could convince Carson to sedate the man for the next several weeks until they could figure out how to get to Atlantis. They could wake him up when they were through the wormhole and in the Pegasus Galaxy and there was nothing he could do about.

Rodney rejected the plan when he realized Weir would balk at the idea, something to do with human rights and free will. It was why she wouldn't just let him conscript Samantha Carter. That and SG-1 would kick his ass if he tried.

The man just stood patiently watching Rodney and a light bulb went off. Maybe he could convince the major to come with them. Maybe he, Dr. Rodney McKay, could convince Major Sheppard of the absolute necessity of what they were doing. He was a genius.If he couldn't do it, no one could.

"So, major," Rodney tried for casual and failed miserably, "what are you doing for dinner?" he asked.

The major saw through him, Rodney could see that. A faint smile tugged at his lips, but he played along, "Actually I volunteered to make a run to McMurdo and pick up some scientist or the other – Zelenka? Something like that. Want to come along?"

Rodney twitched at the thought of flying in a helicopter. He hated helicopters, they were noisy and small. He knew otherwise, but he always felt as if there wasn't enough air in the small space. Nervously he eyed the pilot trying to judge his skill, but the major just smirked at him waiting for Rodney to back out.

Rodney thrust out his chin, "Just tell me when we're leaving," he said. So he could make sure to have his will ready.

A brow lifted, maybe in surprise, maybe in approval. Rodney decided he didn't care which.

"I have to check the weather report, we don't want to caught in a middle of a storm in the Antarctic, and do a pre-flight check. Say half an hour?"

"I'll be there," Rodney said determinedly.

"I'll see you at the helicopter. Dress warm," the major said before sauntering away, his hands thrust in his pockets. He was the very picture of casual indifference.

And the fate of the entire expedition could very well lay in those hands. They were so doomed.

--SGA--

Rodney had just enough time to run by the mess hall and find something to eat and thrust extra power bars into a pocket. He didn't know how the long the flight to McMurdo took, he'd never paid attention before, but he didn't want to risk a hypoglycemic attack with the major as witness. The embarrassment of that would be just too unbearable.

Then he ran by his quarters and pulled on more layers. By the time he made it to the helicopter 29 minutes later, he felt like the Stay-Puff Marshmallow Man. He must have looked like it, too, because the major snickered.

But he didn't comment, instead he stuck out his hand, "I think we need to start over, I'm Major John Sheppard."

Rodney looked at the hand for a moment, not sure what he was supposed to do with it, then he realized the major wanted him to shake it. Tentatively he took the hand, "Major," he said.

The pilot took Rodney's hand with a firm, warm grasp, "John," he insisted.

Rodney pulled his hand from the other man's grasp, "Oh... uh... alright, I'm Dr. Rodney McKay. You can call me uh... Dr. McKay or just doctor if you prefer."

The smirk was back, Rodney could come to hate that smirk, maybe he really didn't want the man along on the expedition if it meant he would have to see that smirk every day.

"Alright," the major elongated the word so it took on whole new meanings. "McKay it is then."

Rodney ground his teeth together but didn't say anything. He was, after all, trying to find the good side of the man.

Rodney started to climb into the back of the helicopter behind the pilot and Sheppard stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"You're not flying back there. You're my co-pilot."

For some reason, Rodney's heart stuttered. He'd never gotten to sit up front with only the windows that looked deceptively thin to prevent him from a fall to untimely death.

"Really?"

Sheppard grinned, "Well, yeah, it's no fun to have a passenger if you're sitting behind me."

The man gave every appearance of being sincere so Rodney waddled to the other side of the helicopter and tried to climb in, but he had too many layers on and couldn't get his arms raised high enough to actually pull himself inside.

"Listen," Sheppard finally took pity on him, "I know I told you to dress warm, but you're going to melt in all that. Why don't you take off at least a layer? You'll be more comfortable."

The man had a modicum of decency because he then took to flipping switches and ignoring Rodney so he could strip off some of the layers without the smirking commentary. Despite the bite of the subzero temperature, Rodney hastily pulled off his parka and began pealing away a layer or two.

By the time Rodney was down to comfortable layers and had his parka back on, it was time for them to go. Rodney climbed in and began pulling belts and buckles into place as Sheppard talked to air control. The rotor began to rotate and the helicopter's whine kicked in, drowning out all sound. Rodney fumbled with getting the headset into place.

"So, you ready to go?" Sheppard's voice in his ear startled him.

Rodney gulped, "Yes, yes, let's just go already," he said impatiently. He twirled a finger to indicate them flying.

Sheppard easy grin mocked him and they were in the air.

The sudden rising of the helicopter caused a jerk of Rodney's stomach which didn't like the unexpected movement. It took him a moment of concentrated effort to keep his dinner where it belonged. Maybe it wasn't wise to eat before the ride in the helicopter. He closed his eyes and clutched his seat until the motion smoothed out.

Slowly he opened his eyes and was astounded at what he saw. All of his previous trips to and from McMurdo had been in the back of whatever transport was available. Rodney had kept his head buried in the lap top refusing to look out for any reason whatsoever.

People thought because he was Canadian he should like the snow. They were forever inviting him out for walks in the snow because they thought he would appreciate it. What they never seemed to get was that Rodney was a man who liked his creature comforts, he liked heat and electricity, hot coffee and warm, dry clothes. Walking outside in the snow was the epitome of wrong headed thinking to him. If he wanted exercise he could walk to the mess hall for his coffee instead of using the carafe in his lab.

But now the snow lay below him like a white blanket over the land, spreading as far as the eye could see. The sun was just setting and it threw dark shadows across the landscape, giving it a patchwork quality. The sky itself was painted in hues of purples and reds and oranges. It all looked so serenely beautiful. He sucked in a breath.

"Cool, isn't it?" Sheppard asked. There was a hint of awe in even his calm, laid-back tone.

Rodney refused to give him the satisfaction, "It might be interesting," he allowed begrudgingly.

Sheppard made a noise that might have been a snort.

They made a sweeping bank that didn't feel nearly as scary as Rodney thought it should. The land slid by below them and Rodney watched raptly out his window. He leaned into the glass, forgetting how thin it was and how far down the ground was. Sheppard didn't talk, he just let Rodney be in the moment.

Time passed in companionable silence. The major didn't seem to be one of those people who had to fill the silence with inane chatter. It was more comfortable than Rodney had imagined it could be. He completely forgot that he was there to convince the major to join the expedition.

As the sun finally dipped below the horizon, Rodney slid a glance over to the pilot. The major was in a religious experience of his own. He flew with his whole body, his feet and hands in constant motion as his eyes kept vigilant watch on the dials and instruments in front of him. Rodney could tell how they were flying by the minute shifts Sheppard made in the way he sat, the tilt of his head, the curve of his lips. It was like watching a conductor as he conducted a symphony with a flick of the wrists and a point of his baton.

The land rose sharply in front of them and Sheppard pulled back on the stick and the helicopter rose with it, skimming along. They were so close, that Rodney wondered if he could open the window and gather a handful of snow. When they topped the rise, Rodney gasped at what he saw. They were faced with a wall of thick, grey, ominous looking clouds. And they were flying straight into it.

It was like there was a line. On one side of it Rodney could glimpse the last of the sunset behind them, faintly orange with wispy clouds. Then they flew into the clouds and they were surrounded by thickly falling white flakes.

"Shit!" Sheppard muttered under his breath.

Rodney knew he shouldn't have left his lab. This was what he deserved, a cold, frozen death. "I thought you said you checked the weather," he didn't care if his voice squeaked, he was facing imminent death.

"I did," Sheppard insisted as he began to turn the helicopter in an attempt to out fly the storm, Rodney presumed.

"And they didn't know about this? What kind of idiots are they anyway?" The snow was falling so fast that Rodney couldn't see the ground anymore. He hoped that Sheppard had some sense of where they were, because Rodney didn't.

"They did," Sheppard said calmly, but his white-knuckled grip on the stick belied that calm. "I just didn't think it would come in this fast."

Rodney gaped at him. "You knew there was a storm coming and you flew out anyway? Worse yet, you brought me out into it?"

"Relax, doc," Sheppard said, "We're alright, I just need to fly out of this and we'll head back to your base."

Rodney couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You're not going to fly out of this. We're going to crash and die. Ohgod, ohgod, ohgod, ohgod, ohgod, why did I leave my lab? I never leave my lab. It's safe in my lab, it's warm in my lab. I have everything I need there."

The wind was picking up and the helicopter was beginning to feel it, shuddering around them.

"You're not going to die, McKay," Sheppard's sharp tone cut through Rodney's panic. He was dead certain and that got through to Rodney when nothing else would. "Although I do think you might be right about not being able to out fly it."

"Oh, god," Rodney began again.

But Sheppard stopped him, "Cut that out. I have to be able to concentrate if I'm going to get us down in one piece. Now I remember passing a ridge where we should be able to set down safely. We can just hunker down for the night and McMurdo will send someone for us in the morning."

Rodney didn't answer. He just clutched his seat, moaning. He didn't know whether he wanted to do die a swift, painful death in the fiery crash they were sure to have or if he'd prefer hypothermia. He thought he remembered it was a peaceful way to die, like going to sleep. Either way, he was certain he was going to die.

So, he was surprised when there was a gentle bump and Sheppard was flipping dials and buttons. The whine of the helicopter was replaced with the moan of the wind.

"Are we dead?" Rodney gasped. "Somehow I always thought it would be more... final."

Sheppard rolled his eyes, "No, we're not dead, McKay. Not even close. Now listen," as he spoke the pilot was busy snugging up his flight suit, making sure there were no loose flaps for the wind to get under. He pulled on gloves and made himself as impervious to the weather as he could, "We've got some survival gear stowed away and I'm going to get it set up. I want you to stay in here, it should be warm a while yet and I'll come get you once I have everything set up. Do not set foot out of the helicopter until I come to get you." His manner had changed from easy-going to hard and sharplike the flipping of a switch.

"Do I look stupid, Major?" McKay answered, the man's command tone pushing Rodney's own buttons. "Just shut up," he snapped when the major opened his mouth, "I had the survival class just like everyone else that came through McMurdo." He didn't say how much of it he'd actually listened to. The skills you needed to survive in the lab, they didn't teach in an Antarctic survival class.

"Glad to hear it, but you're still staying here," Sheppard answered firmly. He didn't wait for Rodney's reply. He opened the door on his side of the helicopter and slid out into the swirling snow and immediately disappeared.

Just the few seconds the door was open allowed the bitterly cold air into the cockpit and Rodney's breath was stolen when it blasted him in the face. Hastily he pulled his own hood up and fastened the front of his parka. He searched his pockets until he found gloves and pulled them on. He tried to remember anything he was supposed to have learned about survival in the Arctic and was coming up blank. All he really remembered was thinking that he never intended to leave his lab, so why were they wasting his time?

Rodney shivered, as much from fear as from the cold now, although the temperature in the helicopter was starting to drop. When he breathed, Rodney could see the white exhalation.

He peered out the window, a thin layer of frost was already starting to form. Rodney rubbed at it with a gloved hand, trying to see the major, trying to see anything, but the snow was falling too hard. It obscured everything in a thick, white haze. He should have gone with the sedation plan. It would have been quick and painless, he and Carson could hide the major's body in a box or something until they were ready to leave for Atlantis, no one would be the wiser. But no, Rodney McKay had to try and convince the man single-handedly.

What had he been thinking? Crap.

The frost was getting thicker on the window, forming a delicate web of crystal. How long did it take frost to form like that? How long had the major been gone? It felt like it had been a long time. There was no way for Rodney to know. There was no sense of time in the helicopter. Sure he could dig out his watch from under the layers of clothing, but it wouldn't tell him anything useful.

What if the major was lost in the snow? That was one of the things Rodney did remember from the stupid class, how easy it was to get turned around in a white out. The major could be only a few steps from the helicopter but not know where he was. In the sub zero temps of the Arctic, he could be dead in a matter of minutes. Briefly Rodney considered getting out to look for him, but then he remembered the major's no nonsense tone when he told Rodney to stay in the helicopter and decided he should stay put for just a while longer.

Rodney was shivering in earnest now. The cold was seeping in through the layers of his clothes. It didn't matter if he stayed in the helicopter or got out. He was going to die and his brain was going to be frozen and any good he might have been able to do mankind was going to die with him. What a waste. He hadn't even had a chance to pass on his genes yet. It was a crime against humanity, that's what it was and it was all the fault of one Major John Sheppard. The man was too cocky by half. And did he really think he was fooling anyone that his hair did _that_ naturally?

Rodney had worked himself into a state when the door next to him opened. He really hadn't known what cold was until that moment. The air blasted through him like a knife, slicing straight through the pitiful layers of clothing he was wearing. A hand appeared out of the snow and latched on to Rodney's arm, giving it a tug.

There was no way Rodney wanted to leave the safety of the helicopter. It was a solid wall of protection from the elements and if he got separated from Sheppard there was no way he was going to be able to find his way in the blinding snow. But the arm pulled inexorably and Rodney found himself climbing out into the blizzard. Through the snow he could dimly make out Sheppard, he kept his fingers tightly curled in Rodney's sleeve, tugging him along.

The wind buffeted them, trying to pull them apart. For every step forward Rodney took, the wind pushed him back two. Rodney twisted his hand so he could hold onto the major's wrist, desperately afraid of losing the other man. One step away from the helicopter and he could no longer see it and he had no idea where they were going.

The cold was the worst thing Rodney had ever experienced. He couldn't breathe through it, he felt like his lungs were burning just trying to suck in air. His eyes were freezing and he instinctively shut them, lowering his head to try and block some of the wind. Shivering so hard he could barely put one foot in front of the other, he let the major lead him along. The snow crunched under his feet, giving alarmingly in places. Rodney had visions of falling through the crusty layer of snow and being swallowed up. But the major kept leading him along step by step and the snow stayed firm underfoot.

It felt like they walked forever, Rodney was sure he was going to freeze between one step and the next., but he kept trudging forward, trying to take shallow breaths hoping they would hurt less. Finally Sheppard pushed Rodney's head down and Rodney stumbled forward. It was the cessation of the wind that told him they had arrived.

Rodney opened his eyes in surprise. He found himself standing in a tent barely big enough to stand in. It was pleasantly warm and bright. There was a couple of lanterns set into corners lighting the space. Sheppard had sleeping bags and emergency blankets thrown down for them and a little camp stove set up in the corner.

All Rodney could do was stand and stare, shivering so hard he couldn't move. Sheppard stepped in behind him and sealed the flap of their tent.

Without a word Sheppard brushed the snow from Rodney as best he could and picked up one of the emergency blankets and wrapped it securely around Rodney's shoulders. The warmth in the tent was beginning to make itself felt, but Rodney was still shivering, his teeth chattered together in an undignified manner.

Sheppard turned to the camp stove that had a pot on it and Rodney thought he could smell...

Rodney inhaled deeply. "Coffee?" his mouth dropped open in astonishment. Rodney knelt down next to the stove as much to be closer to the coffee as to absorb the warmth it was putting off.

Sheppard shrugged, "I dragged you out off of a nice safe base and brought you out into a blizzard. I thought the least I could do was buy you coffee." He drew a tin cup out of the pack laying next to the stove and carefully poured the brown liquid into it.

It could hardly be called coffee, it was too thin, really it was just coffee-colored water, but it was hot and the metal of the cup warmed Rodney's hands through the gloves. He settled in a nest of emergency blankets and sipped the hot brew trying to calm his shaking. He was beginning to believe he might actually live through the night.

"So, ah..." Rodney began, "does anyone actually know where we are?"

Sheppard brushed himself free of snow, careful to do it in a corner where it wouldn't melt onto their blankets. Then he poured himself some of the coffee water and squatted down next to Rodney. "I radioed McMurdo before the storm interfered too badly with our communications and our beacon's transmitting. They'll send someone out to get us as soon as this storm has passed."

There were so many questions Rodney wanted to ask – Are you sure? How do you know? Can I trust my life in your hands? But the major did seem to be fairly competent, hence the coffee water. Rodney could feel himself actually starting to thaw and their situation didn't seem quite so desperate. Rodney decided he would adopt a wait-and-see-attitude. There was plenty of time to panic later if it looked like there was cause.

"And how long before the storm passes?" was the question Rodney finally settled on.

Sheppard shrugged, "It's still spring here in the arctic. I'm not sure we would have survived a winter storm."

Rodney really didn't need to hear that.

"The storm should blow itself out in a few hours."

He didn't quite meet Rodney's eyes and Rodney felt the fear creep back. "Should?"

"We're in the Antarctic, McKay. It's hard to predict how long these things will last."

"This was your plan all along, wasn't it?" Rodney accused. "You brought me out here so you could kill me and then you wouldn't have to go to Atlantis."

His outburst didn't even phase the other man. Sheppard settled gracefully into the nest of blankets stretching his legs out in front of him. He easily took up more than his share of the small space. Rodney huddled miserably in the corner watching Sheppard closely for any quick movements.

"That's a little dramatic isn't it, McKay?" The major asked with a wry twist to his lips. "When a simple no to your Dr. Weir was all that was necessary. How about something to eat? Arctic survival 101 – eat so your body can keep producing heat." He rummaged through the pack again and produced a couple of MREs which he held up. "Macaroni and Cheese or a Turkey Sandwich," he read from the packages.

"You told her no?" Rodney exploded. "When did you do that?"

"She showed up while I was doing the pre-flight check. She went on and on about this being most important endeavor in human history and I'd be crazy not to want to go." He held up both packages for Rodney's perusal.

"And you told her no?" Rodney couldn't get past that point.

"I did." Deciding Rodney wasn't going to choose, Sheppard tossed him the mac & cheese meal. He began to tear into his own.

Rodney snatched the turkey sandwich from Sheppard's hands and thrust the other meal at him. "And you were going to tell me this when?"

Sheppard took the change with good grace, "I think I just did."

"So you brought me out here under false pretenses?"

Sheppard grinned at him. "I thought I'd give you the chance to change my mind." Absently he stirred the goopy mixture that was his meal.

"Oh." Rodney's fit of righteous anger was abruptly derailed. "Okay, good then." He fumbled with the package of his meal with fingers still half frozen. "I think I have frost bite," he mumbled mulishly.

"We'll know if they turn green and fall off," was Sheppard's cheerful reply.

The man was quite probably the most irritating person Rodney had ever met. And Rodney found himself starting to like the man quite against his will.

"Well, it's nice to know you care," Rodney shot back.

"Oh, believe me, I care," Sheppard assured him. "I can't even begin to think where the Air Force would send me after Antarctica if I managed to lose the head scientist of the expedition that's 'the greatest endeavor in human history'." He made air quotes around Elizabeth's words.

Rodney found himself grinning, "She can be a little over the top, can't she?"

The sound Sheppard made was definitely a snort. He fished the desert out of his meal and tossed the brownie in Rodney's direction.

Oh, yes, the man definitely had to go with them to Pegasus.

They ate as the wind howled outside, each lost in their own thoughts.

"Are you really going to another galaxy?" Sheppard finally asked.

Rodney nodded, licking brownie crumbs from the package. "The Pegasus Galaxy."

Sheppard shook his head, "That's just so. It sounds like science fiction." Sheppard stirred at his meal, he hadn't really eaten much of it. Rodney eyed it greedily.

"You going to eat that?" he asked casually.

Sheppard handed it to him and Rodney took a bite.

"So, tell me why I should go to the Pegasus Galaxy," Sheppard said. He laid down on the blankets with his head leaning on a hand.

Rodney swallowed the bite thoughtfully, "I could tell you, you should go for the action and adventure..."

Sheppard's face went unreadable and his eyes hooded, "Thanks," he said staring at a point just above Rodney's head, "I've had enough adventure in my life to last a life time."

Rodney didn't press, sometimes his lack of people skills came in handy and this was one of those times. Someone else, Elizabeth for example, might press and try to find out more. But it was clear that Sheppard did not want to talk about whatever it was.

"I won't lie to you, major," Rodney swirled his spoon in the mixture that was supposed to be macaroni and cheese and more closely resembled an experiment in atomic waste, "we need you. You did things with that chair in just a few seconds that we haven't been able to get it to do in months of experimentation."

Sheppard kept staring at the point above Rodney's head, "See here's the thing, McKay, I don't want to be needed. People depended on me once and I let them down. I can't do it again."

Rodney waited to see if there was going to be more. Outside their tent, the wind continued to blow, it sounded like the hounds of hell hunting for their prey. Rodney shivered, not from the cold and the snow and the fact that they were lost in the Antarctic, but from the hopeless sorrow in John Sheppard's voice.

Sheppard didn't speak and Rodney just kept eating. At last Rodney had to say something to fill the silence, "Is that why you're in Antarctica?"

He was quiet so long that Rodney decided their conversation was over. Major John Sheppard wouldn't be going to Pegasus. Rodney swirled a finger in the cheesy remains in the bottom of the cup and licked it.

"That's just disgusting, McKay," Sheppard said quietly.

Rodney grinned at him and continued to chase the final cheesy goop from the cup.

"Yes," the major said heavily. "That's part of the reason why I'm in Antarctica. It's the farthest place they could send me where they didn't have to see me again. I could have quit, but I chose to come... so I could keep flying." He shrugged. "It just felt like a chance to start over again."

Rodney looked over at the major, suddenly knowing what he had to say, "Don't you see? That's what Pegasus is! The biggest start over there is," he set the cup aside, cheesy remains forgotten. "No one there will know what you did, or who you are. They won't care. Hell, what's important is what you do once you get there. And I can feel it, you're supposed to go," the words tumbled from Rodney in his passion.

John finally met his eyes. Rodney could see the pain he kept hidden from the world, the anger and grief and the desire to start over that Rodney was offering. Then he blinked and John's eyes were shuttered again, hiding it all away, presenting the mask of cocky pilot and ne'er do well to the world.

"It's getting late," John said. "We should turn in. Hopefully this storm will pass soon and in the morning I'll have you back at your base."

Rodney wanted to shake him, but he didn't. That wasn't Dr. Rodney McKay's way but he'd seen the crack and he'd do everything he could to work at until John Sheppard caved and joined them in their expedition to Pegasus.

"Will you at least think about it?" Rodney persisted as he settled in the blankets.

John leaned over and turned out one lantern. He dimmed the other until they were almost in darkness. "I'll think about it," he said so softly Rodney could barely hear him.

* * *

The morning really was anticlimactic. The storm blew itself out in the night. When Sheppard threw the flap of the tent back, the sun was shining blindingly off the snow. It was banked up along one side of their tent, but otherwise there was no sign of nature's ferocity. 

Rodney was astonished to find that they were only a few steps from the helicopter. He had been certain the night before that they'd walked half way across the Antarctic. Their tent was tucked into the L of a chunk of protruding ice which sheltered them from the worst of the storm.

Within an hour another helicopter arrived to refuel theirs. It didn't take long to pack up their camp and soon they were airborne and on their way back to the base.

The flight was quiet, neither man saying a word. Rodney just watched the snow slide by, an unbroken carpet of white. It wasn't until the dome of the base was in sight that John broke the silence.

"I really am sorry about the storm. I thought we could beat it."

Rodney was munching on a power bar, planning his strategy for getting Major John Sheppard to Pegasus.

"Hey, it's not like most of my staff wouldn't have given you a medal if you'd actually left me out there," Rodney waved a hand. He'd meant it to be funny.

Sheppard didn't see it that way. He scowled over at Rodney, "I don't leave people behind, McKay," he growled ferociously. "Not even irritating scientists."

Rodney backpedaled, not certain where he'd gone wrong, "Oh, ah, okay... thanks for ah... saving my life."

"See that's the thing," Sheppard set the helicopter down with nary a bump. "your life wouldn't have needed saving if I hadn't taken you out there. So, I think your little expedition is better off without me." John busied himself with shutting down the helicopter.

Instead of convincing Rodney to let it go, Sheppard's words had the opposite effect.

"Oh, please," Rodney's words dripped with sarcasm. "You endangered my life? Like I don't do that on a daily basis working on technology I don't understand with incompetent nincompoops. The thing is, you didn't panic, you stayed calm, you took care of the situation in an incredibly competent manner. I was more comfortable last night than I've been since I've come to the Arctic. So, don't give me the crap that you're a liability because you're not. You're just a selfish ass who doesn't want other people to need him."

With that, Rodney twisted the handle on his door and slid out of the helicopter leaving behind Major John Sheppard staring thoughtfully after him.

* * *

Rodney didn't see him again after that, although he did hear through the grapevine that Sheppard had told Weir an unequivocal no before leaving to fly General O'Neill back to McMurdo. 

The General approved their use of the ZedPM. The expedition began to look like a go and the push to get to Atlantis picked up momentum. They moved their operation to the SGC base in Cheyenne Mountain at Colorado Springs and began working in earnest to making the dream happen.

Rodney sent daily updates to Sheppard on their progress and lists of reasons why he should join the expedition. The fact that Sheppard never answered a single one of the emails didn't deter him. Rodney had been working far too long on projects that were theoretical at best to let the reality of the major's obstinate silence deter him.

It did present a road block however, when, after 2 weeks of emailing, a message came back saying the user had closed the account. No amount of snooping and hacking would produce another email address for John Sheppard.

Still Rodney wasn't too surprised to look up from his work bench one evening to find Sheppard standing in the door, leaning against the frame watching.

Rodney snapped his fingers, "I'm glad to see you finally got with the program," he said, "now come over here and touch this. I've been trying to figure out for days what it does and everyone else is tired of trying to get it work."

"How do you know I joined the program?" John asked curiously as he moved over to look at what Rodney was working on. "I could just be here because General O'Neill needs a helicopter pilot."

Rodney thrust the ancient doohickey into Sheppard's hand and was disappointed when it did nothing. Maybe it really was broken like the little Czech guy kept saying. "Do I look that gullible?" He narrowed his eyes to look up at the major. "They wouldn't even let you in the mountain if you didn't join the program. Think on." He snapped his fingers again when Sheppard glanced over at him skeptically.

"On?"

"Yes, you know, the opposite of off? Is that too hard for you?"

"Give me a break, this is all new for me. I've spent all day hearing about Stargates and Ancients and some little grey guys called the Asgard. Are they really naked?"

Rodney gaped at him, "Is that all you got out of it? Never mind, at least you're here now. What changed your mind?"

"Not your emails. Do you do any work?" John surveyed the lab askance.

Rodney waived a dismissive hand, "I multitask."

"Well, you shouldn't have bothered, I deleted them all." There was something in John's eyes that told Rodney he was lying, he'd read every word avidly.

"Alright, so why are you here?" Rodney demanded.

John shrugged, "Lucky coin toss, I guess."

"The most important decision of your life, and you decided on a coin toss?"

"Well 15 actually. Eight yes and seven no. I decided I should go with the best odds."

"Well as long as you used a scientific method."

"McKay, this may be your dream, but it's pretty damn scary from where I'm standing. You're asking me to give up everything..."

"Oh, yeah a scut assignment in the Antarctic flying..."

"That's the point. Flying. At least I'm flying. McKay... Rodney, that's all I ever wanted to do with my life. Fly. And I'm giving that up to go someplace where we have no idea what to expect? I must be crazy."

Their eyes locked, and Rodney asked, "So, why are you going? As much as she'd like to, Elizabeth wouldn't force you to go. I might sedate you and lock you in a box until we got there, but Elizabeth wouldn't let me."

John stared down at the device in his hands and turned it curiously, fierce concentration in his face as he tried to make it work. But it stayed dark. "Maybe it was what you said about a new start. I think I could use one of those." Sheppard laid the doohickey down, "Listen, have you had dinner? I hear the mess hall here has better food than the MREs we had that night in Antarctica. I'll buy you dinner and you can tell me what I'm getting into."

Rodney grinned, "Sure, major. After you make that thing work." He waggled a finger at the device John had just set down. With a roll of his eyes, John picked it up again and concentrated on turning it on.


End file.
